


Euphoria

by stealthseme



Category: Fire Emblem: Rekka no Ken
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-29
Updated: 2013-05-29
Packaged: 2017-12-13 07:30:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 743
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/821640
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stealthseme/pseuds/stealthseme
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There was something about Guy, Karel had decided months ago, that reminded him of a stray dog.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Euphoria

**Author's Note:**

> Haven't posted anything on AO3 yet. This is the newest thing I've written. Normally I depend too heavily on dialogue when I'm writing, so I challenged myself to write something almost completely devoid of it. Aah... been awhile since I posted a fic. Please be gentle. /)A(\

There was something about Guy, Karel had decided months ago, that reminded him of a stray dog. Good-natured, eager to please, and quick on the uptake. A bit of a goofball sometimes, but serious about training. Serious about swordplay. When Karel had wounded him in their showdown -- spared the boy from death's final blow by a split second -- Guy was eager to get back to training as soon as possible, even with bloodied bandages around his middle.

And train they did. Guy hadn't learned everything Karel had to teach when he first started training him, despite being such a quick study. Karel's sword thirsted too strongly for his blood. But after that year, after soundly beating Guy, it seemed the blade was sated for the time being, and Karel could continue to teach him secrets the sword had passed to him.

They spent the winter in Ilia, caught in the deep snows and unable to travel back to warmer climates. Guy learned how to fight in the elements and Karel learned that Guy made a surprisingly warm bedmate to fend off the winter chill.

Karel wouldn't give himself over to the foolish notion of love, but he would admit a... _fondness_ for his apprentice. Guy, however, seemed utterly enamored.

When they were both chilled to the bone and soaking wet from training in the snow, they'd retire, ruddy-faced and grinning like fools, to the fireplace in the inn's common room. The Sword Demon would garner strange looks and apprehension from the other guests, but his sword no longer seemed to thirst for blood. None of the fellow travelers were strong enough to pique his blade's interest, it seemed.

In the after-training glow, they would talk. Guy would share anecdotes about his childhood, Karel would boast of his past conquests. For weeks, Guy tried to pull some of Karel's past -- his actual past, not fantastic versions of his battles alone -- until one night.

Their training had given way to a near-miss, Guy stumbling and distracting Karel to the point where the Sword Demon's blade cleanly sliced the young Sacaen's headband in half and then cut deeper. It wasn't a bad wound, but it bled, staining the snow a bright crimson.

When Karel burst into the inn demanding assistance, he was greeted with frightened looks. He threatened bodily harm if Guy wasn't attended to, and the innkeeper guided them back to their room, had bandages and cloth and warm water sent up.

As Karel cleaned and dressed Guy's wound, he told stories of the plains, of his family, of the day the sword called out to him and drove him to slay his kin and take the sword for his own.

As Guy listened, not judging, Karel found that a weight lifted from his body. A weight he didn't even realize had been there, it had been pressing on him for so long.

As he mended his own handiwork, Karel found words flowing freely from his lips, excuses made for his bloodlust, explanation about how it felt as his sword was sated, the dizzying, positively _orgasmic_ rush that came from feeling his blade bite into flesh. And Guy was silent, listening.

Sharing the bed that night was less _fucking_ and could almost be called lovemaking. It was almost as though Karel had broken inside, emotion flowing out from the bloodthirsty shell that had kept him trapped for so long. Like the fire of lust had faded from his golden eyes. They fell asleep with their fingers entwined, breath matched to breath.

They didn't train for days after that, didn't spend their time by the common room's fire. They talked, made love, recuperated.

Once Guy's wound had healed enough to travel, the snow was beginning to melt. They were packed as soon as possible, departing from Ilia to Sacae, continued training as they traveled. The air between them seemed to have changed -- Karel was almost convinced to believe he'd gained a weakness, began to be more than just fond of the boy.

They met his sister in Bulgar. After a tearful greeting, Karel motioned to Guy, introduced his... he stumbled over the word, unsure of how to refer to him. He settled on _lover_ with a sort of sheepish tone. Goaded Guy into greeting his sister.

Karla's expression grew pained as she glanced to where he indicated, then back to meet honey-brown eyes.

In a quiet, worried voice, she asked Karel who he was talking to.


End file.
